


You will not break me you will not create me - Aftermath

by Neko_Airie



Series: Rarities come in Handy [18]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 16:18:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1476109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neko_Airie/pseuds/Neko_Airie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>epilouge to You will not break me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You will not break me you will not create me - Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Great plot from Selene467. A bit messy, will go back eventually. I have so many other plots to write aswell now so stay tuned

d’Artangan had been fews a grand total of six month previous from his year long captivity. The Captain of the Red Guards and suffered the hangmans noose, as decreed by the King himself. Louis had been furious when he had heard about the suffering on his exotic musketeer, he had sentenced the man to immediate execution for crimes against the state and one of the nobility. d’Arangan had deigned not to attend the execution, he could not. He had stayed cocconed with Athos, Aramis and Porthos fro the better part of a week, he would let none of them go. His little Carlota was returned to her family and he was praised as a hero.

None of that mattered now. He needed to draw his sword. He needed to to yet his hands were shaking as he watched his family fight before him. He had be incapable of holding his weapon since his captivity, fear was permitting his system rearing it’s ugly head when ever he tried to reach out to the hilt of his sword. He froze and a thousand different thoughts moved through his head. They all seemed to centre around the fact that this sword made him even more dangerous, it didn’t matter that he had more control over his anger and wildness, no he was more dangerous with a weapon than he was with out. Athos parried a blow but was forced back by the sheer strength of his opponent, Porthos was struggling under the onslaught of four attackers determined to bring him to his knees and Aramis was doing his best between pistol and musket to pick of the men that were heading close the reinforcements. Anumpama was doing her best with the attackers that were surrounding them already. “d’Artangan, they need you. Please” She was begging, it was almost heartbreaking. His hand closed around the hilt of his sword and he drew if from it’s sheath and dived in.

Athos was in trouble he had been forced into a corner and he was getting tired, they were out numbered he looked around and and saw his brothers in much the same situation that he was pinned and in trouble. He regretted loosing his focus when a sword started falling in a lethal strike towards him, swallowing he tried to block. There was the sound of clashing metal but he felt no pressure on his arm. He looked up and saw a sword that he hadn’t seen for six months. d’Artangan took the blow parried it and attacked. Athos grinned and went back to back with his lover, he hand been worrying constantly about d’Artangans future and his paralysing fear of his own sword. He turned to his lover and allowed one of his hands to drop and clasp at d’Artangans free wrist squeezing slightly in encouragement.

The tide was turning now, they were being beaten back, running of men to be put out pasture with the musketeers. Soon they realised that it was far safer for their health that they are heather staying away from the Musketeer quartet. Athos and d’Artangan had been split up during the fight and were on opposite sides of the yard in which they were fighting. d’Artangan was challenging the last of their attackers with Anumpama at his side, Aramis and Porthos had held Athos back when he tried to move forwards him. “No, he needs this. To know that he s still him and that holding a sword now is no different from before.” Athos understood but he was scared, not of d’Artangan loosing control but for him, this was a big step for him. The attacker fell, dead. 

Time seemed to drag on, Athos didn’t want to wait, but he was just stood there silently. The blood dripped from the sword, like rubies. ‘ Come on, please move. Do something anything. Break down, fall to pieces, speak to me. Anything’ the internal pray was cut short when d’Artangan did move, his hand came to rest on Anu finger scripting gently behind her ears. He looked up and Athos could see a weight in his heart but he sheathed his sword and weakly he smiled. It was d’Artangans smile, weak but beautiful, his sun scorched features hadn’t born such a genuine smile for such a long time. He was back. 

Aramis smiled and let Athos go to him, he had watch the nightmares and the screaming terror that shook their youngest brother in the weeks and months after he had been rescued. He had cried when the pair of them had fallen asleep, cried into Porthos shoulder and Porthos had done much the same with him. They would not have added more to Athos and d’Artangans list of woe but he had vowed on one of those night that he would see d’Artangan back to himself. He was suddenly dragged by Porthos forwards and into a bone crushing hug with the other pair. 

There would always be scars, but they could move on and tend to the pain when they ached.


End file.
